


For The Win

by cjmarlowe



Series: Friendly Competition [3]
Category: Diving RPF
Genre: Breathplay, Collars, M/M, Obedience, going for the gold, kink bingo, london 2012
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 21:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjmarlowe/pseuds/cjmarlowe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Riley could do whatever he wanted, but he doesn't move at all. He lays there and he breathes and he waits and it's Tom's say, what he does. He's earned this tonight, and instead of challenging him this time, Riley is letting him have it. A gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For The Win

"No one knows I'm here," says Tom as Riley lets him into his room again, shutting the door behind himself quickly and pushing the hood back from his head.

"That seems unlikely."

"One person knows I'm here," he amends himself, "and she's going to cover for me. I wore a hoodie on my way in."

"You know a hoodie's not actually a valid disguise, right? People know you."

"Look, do you want to fuck or not?" says Tom. "Take off your shirt already. You look like a hobo."

"I just showered!" says Riley. "This is my most comfortable shirt!"

"It's got holes in it," says Tom, "and unless you want me to make them bigger, you should take your shirt off before I get my hands on it. Or in it."

Riley looks like he actually considers that for a moment, and literally tearing his shirt off is something Tom would absolutely do right now, but in the end Riley strips it off himself and throws it on top of his half packed suitcase.

It's a reminder that they're both going to be leaving soon—Tom just the Athletes Village and Riley the entire country. The entire continent. They've been here a long time and yet it still feels too soon.

He tries not to think about that tonight.

"You're supposed to be out celebrating," says Riley. "Did you forget?"

"I _am_ out celebrating," says Tom. It's hard to think of any celebration that would be more fun than what's he's doing right now, or what he's about to do, anyway. He's already celebrated with his teammates, and tomorrow he'll celebrate with his whole country, but tonight he'll celebrate with Riley.

And he has a plan.

"Congratulations," says Riley after a moment of hesitation. "I didn't get to tell you that before."

"You too," says Tom, and Riley makes a face at him. "No, I mean it."

"I know you do," says Riley, "but save it for when I actually beat you, or at least come close. Today was—"

"You didn't make any mistakes," says Tom, even though maybe he shouldn't be saying anything if he actually wants to get down to the sex any time soon. Riley doesn't need the reassurances. He's one of the top divers in the world and has a room full of trophies and awards, just like Tom. But he does it anyway.

"Neither did anyone else," says Riley, and smiles at him and strips off his shorts, too, even though Tom hasn't asked yet. "Neither did you."

Tom grins at him because he just won a bloody Olympic medal and it still feels fantastic. "Come on," he says. "Bed."

"Foreplay is for suckers?"

"I can do foreplay lying down," says Tom. "I can do a lot of things lying down."

"You can also do a lot of things standing on your arms, but that's not necessarily the best way to do them," says Riley, because he's a cheeky fucker when he wants to be.

"I've never tried it standing on my arms," says Tom. "We might have to make another bet."

"Does that mean we're never having sex again without a bet being involved?" says Riley. "Because I had some awesome plans for the next time we—"

"I'm sure you do," says Tom, steering the ship back on course, "but tonight's about my awesome plans. And believe me, I have some."

Riley smirks at him, then stretches out naked on the bed again, like an offering. He hasn't bothered to make it this time, nor does he attempt to rectify that now, and somehow that's actually kind of hot. There's something hot about a mess. Tom watches him for a few moments, then unzips his hoodie and lays it on the other bed. It's quickly joined by his shirt, his trousers, his pants, and his shoes lined up neatly by the bed because that's the kind of gracious houseguest that he is.

Plus, he expects to need to find all of that in a hurry on his way out again later, because he has a long day ahead of him yet.

From the pocket of his hoodie, he pulls his mother's scarf again, the one she is never, ever getting back because Tom would never be able to look her in the eye while she's wearing it anymore. Not after what they've already used it for, and what they're about to.

"Since you liked it so much last time," says Tom, pinning him down so that he can wrap the scarf around Riley's neck again, "I thought we'd try it again."

"The same thing as this afternoon?"

"No," says Tom, and ties the scarf on this time, a single tight loop around Riley's neck. It's so fine that it compresses down to a multi-coloured band around his throat. That's only step one. Then he rips the cord from his hoodie and ties one end tight to the front of the scarf.

A collar. A leash.

He can see the moment that Riley gets it, watches him swallow hard, the smirk wiped right off his face.

His body is already bare, so Tom can see, just as easily as he could feel earlier that afternoon, that he's into it. Even if he doesn't say anything. In fact, it's kind of better if he doesn't.

"Are you going to do everything I tell you to do?" says Tom. When Riley hesitates, he pulls on the collar. Not forwards by the makeshift leash, but clenching it in his fist and yanking it sideways and backwards so that it presses just hard enough against his windpipe that he can feel it.

Riley nods his head, then sucks in a deep breath.

"If you're ever not okay with this," Tom says, because he feels like it needs to be said, under the circumstances, "just tell me no. Just push me off."

The fact that it needs to be said makes him feel like he's in a little over his head, but then Riley nods again. He understands. He agrees.

Things have already gone in a direction Tom didn't entirely intend, just like they had earlier, but Riley's into it and he's into it so he goes with it. As long as they're both on the same page.

"Stay where you are for a minute," he said, getting off him again and leaving the leash coiled against his chest, right at his breastbone. Riley could do whatever he wanted, but he doesn't move at all. He lays there and he breathes and he waits and it's Tom's say, what he does. He's earned this tonight, and instead of challenging him this time, Riley is letting him have it. A gift.

The whole thing, the whole idea, is a little bit heady. They had their bet, sure, but this is more than that. Riley is giving him more than that. Tom's not sure how much more, or what it means, but he doesn't take it for granted. He takes it gratefully.

"I just want to look at you."

Tom is still dressed, minus the hoodie, and he decides that maybe he's going to stay that way for a while. He wants it to last this time. They have the time to make it last, finally, and he can _leave marks_. Not big ones. Not obvious ones. Riley goes around shirtless nearly as much as Tom does. But the eyes of the planet aren't on their bodies tomorrow and that means something. That means that Tom can claim it as his.

That means Tom's body is his own to give away, if only for a little while.

Riley opens his mouth, but then closes it again. Tom wonders what he was going to say, wonders why he didn't say it, then realises that Riley is waiting for permission. He's giving up control of his voice, too, and shutting up—at least in private—is not something Riley does easily.

"Can I put something in your mouth?" he says, not even sure where that impulse came from. Maybe just from looking at it, from seeing his lips parted and wondering if there's a way to keep them that way.

Riley hesitates this time, but he still nods, and Tom doesn't abuse that trust. He doesn't stuff it full of something but instead finds a bathrobe tie and uses that to gag him, tying it loosely around his head. Riley can breathe and he can swallow but his mouth is open, lips are parted, and Tom bites his own lip as he looks at him that way.

He feels a little out of control, but in the good way. Wanting something _so_ badly, and despite his plan not knowing exactly how he's going to get it because there are a lot of variables he hadn't considered. Chief among them his own unpredictable desire.

He didn't know he wanted it like this until they were suddenly right here.

"Is this too weird?" he asks. Riley doesn't hesitate before he shakes his head. And his tongue darts out beneath the gag to wet his lower lip and Tom is hot all over again.

His clothes feel tight, not just where he's hard but all over. Still, he leaves them on as he starts kissing down Riley's body. He takes the leash and wraps the end of it a couple of times around his hand, even though he's not so much as tugging it right now. Just the reminder to both of them that it's there is enough. Riley's skin feels dry and hot under his lips. Not sweaty but flushed. He can hear his rapid heartbeat through his chest and feel the pulse of his blood rushing through his body.

The thing about being a diver, maybe even more than in a lot of other sports, is an intense awareness of your body position at all times. Not just your body condition, though that's part of it, but the exact spread of your legs, the exact curve of your back, the exact position of your head and feet. You can turn it off, in your everyday life, but it's still sort of there in the back of your head.

And when you think about it, it's right at the forefront again.

Tom is very, very aware of his body right now, every muscle that's in use, the angle of his arms, the vee of his legs and the bend of his feet where he's pressing into the bed, almost ready to spring up at a moment's notice.

"I still feel like everything's going very fast," he says, as if by saying that he can make the whole world slow down around him, to give him more time to be in this moment. This moment should exist outside of time, outside of competition and outside of all the demands that are on him the moment he steps out of this room again.

Riley just looks at him, and Tom knows he isn't serious about a lot of things, he isn't with Riley for the profound conversation, but there's something in the look Riley gives him, something in his eyes, that says more eloquently than his words every could how much he understands Tom completely, in this moment.

Only then does Tom start taking off his clothes, one piece at a time and lingering in between to lavish attention on Riley's body, to take what he wants and give what's unasked for. To assert control over the situation, and to let Riley let him over and over again until he's naked and hard and straddling him and he's very aware of the weight and position of that part of his body too.

Riley's mouth is open and he's breathing and he's _looking_ at Tom like he completely trusts him and it all but undoes him.

"I'm going to fuck you, okay?" says Tom, but he doesn't wait for an answer, verbal or otherwise, just stays alert for a negative response. He reads the signals. "Because I just...I have to. I have to fuck you."

He doesn't apologise for it, and Riley looks like the last thing he'd be receptive to is an apology for something that he wants just as much.

"And I'm going to turn you over to do it."

He hadn't known he was going to say _that_ until it came out of his mouth, but he looked at Riley and he thought about taking him from behind, knees tucked up and tugging the collar back against his throat and suddenly it was the only thing he wanted.

It feels just as good as he thought it would. He wraps the leash around his hand, twice, and leaves it slack most of the time except at random moments when he tugs a little harder and Riley lifts his head and gasps as much as he can. Tom gives him a chance to ask him to stop. He doesn't.

He thought it would be different like this. Colder. Like strangers. But it's not; Tom's never felt so fucking close to him as he does right now, and for a second he forgets everything, the bet and the win and the silence and he just closes his eyes and fucks him like they're lovers, like they have breakfast in the morning and celebrate birthdays and fuck like this whenever they want to. Like they live on the same continent.

He tugs on the collar again and kisses and licks the gap that opens up at the back of his neck and Riley gasps and moans at the same time and arches up into Tom's thrust. For a moment, just a moment, he tugs a little harder, then he slackens it again and grabs Riley's biceps instead and fucks him so hard he sees stars. Fucks him like he can do anything to him, and maybe he can, just for tonight.

After all, Riley is completely complicit in this.

He doesn't say anything but he clutches at the covers and he makes little noises and Tom knows what he wants, he _knows_ , but this is his night and he's going to get his first and he even thinks that's maybe what Riley wants. He was going to pull out, strip the condom off and come on his back, but being buried inside him just feels too good and when the time comes to pull out he just...doesn't. He scratches the back of Riley's neck, the back of his shoulder, and bites his lip and goes as deep as he can, coming at the apex of his thrust.

He gasps and shakes and Riley ducks his head and just on impulse he tugs on the collar again and reaches between Riley and the bed and he barely even touches him before Riley is coming, spilling over his fingers with an inarticulate cry, muffled by the gag.

Tom holds them there just like that for as long as he can, but it's an awkward position and he only has a fraction of his usual strength right now and before long they're collapsing to the bed, first on top of one another and then, once Tom pulls out, side by side.

He takes the gag off first, but Riley doesn't say anything until after the collar is carefully undone and then much less carefully thrown on the floor.

"That was..." he says, and then clearly struggles for the right words. "Different."

"Different?" says Tom, holding himself back from laughing at that. " _Different_?"

"I don't know what I'm supposed to call it!" says Riley, defensive but laughing too. "You just...and I just...and it was _good_."

"Isn't that the only thing that matters," says Tom, running a hand gently over his throat. "We don't have to let it get weird."

"Oh, we are _so_ far past that," says Riley. "Besides, you were the winner, I can just blame the whole thing on how you're a total perv."

"Yeah, like I _made_ you do any of that," says Tom. "I didn't even _ask_ you for half of it." Riley just kind of smiles, not sheepish, maybe even a little smug and satisfied. Which is exactly what it should be. They don't have to explain it, or themselves. They just have to enjoy it. "I'm crashing here for a little while."

"Are you sure you want to be caught naked in my room?"

"I don't intend to be caught naked _or_ in your room," says Tom. They never had been before, after all. "It's just for a little while."

"Yeah, that's what we always say," says Riley. "It's just because we won. It's just this one time. It's just when we see each other."

"It is just when we see each other," says Tom, but now it's every time they see each other, and it wasn't the bet that got them into bed together. That was just about what they did, not whether they did it in the first place. That was, these days, a foregone conclusion.

That was sort of the point, and not something he wanted to try to think about right now.

"Just for a little while," said Riley eventually, "before you have to go meet your adoring public."

"I thought you were my adoring public," says Tom, and Riley elbows him and Tom laughs and everything is fine and comfortable again. For a little while.


End file.
